Pause summer

Somebody please push pause. Hit the button. There is still time.

I’m not ready for summer to end. I’m not done yet. My wish list still has boxes that need to be ticked. It has to happen before the melancholy of the “F” word seeps in (fall – I mean fall.).

You can help.

Let’s collectively agree to the following: stop saying summer is over. Stop counting down the days until the kids go back to school. Do not point out the trees with leaves turning colour already.

And for goodness’ sake, stop talking about the chill in the air at night. Grab a sweater and cope.

You see, I am in deep denial, (the sacred place where I am most comfortable). This summer hasn’t met my super-high expectations, (kind of like my budget, my career and my cup size).

I’m not bitter. Really, I’m not, (except about my cup size, but that’s a whole other column). I just do my best to take what I’m given in life and work with it. But working seems to be my issue. I love to work so I don’t stop. My phone and I are one person.

Clearly, a vacation is long overdue.

Of my two weeks’ vacation, one is dedicated to a cottage reunion that happens at the end of summer each year. So while my friends post wonderful images of their travels from their summer vacations, I am at work waiting for the season to almost end so I can finally get some rest and relaxation.

But by then, everyone around me wants to start thinking about what’s next, because they are ready to move on. School. Routine. Extra-curricular activities.

I’ll tell you what’s next: me on a dock reading a book with a gin and tonic, a slice of lime and no technology to be had. Picture me not working. It’s a beautiful thing.

It’s been a year since I have experienced the familiar waft of cedar when I first open the door to the cottage we rent. I have missed the sound of a boat motor revving up, the gush of water around the propellers and the way the sound travels across the lake. I love that sound. I miss boats. I miss the way lake water smells on your skin.

I long for the piercing call of the loon in the morning. Even coffee tastes different when it’s sipped from a two-handed mug in the early morning, enjoyed from the comfort of a Muskoka chair, watching the mist float hauntingly over the lake. And nothing else matters. Not in this moment.

Don’t get me wrong, I have had a wonderful summer thus far. I saw Canadian icon Gordon Lightfoot take the stage at the Elora Festival. I stood at the rail of Grand River Raceway on Industry Day and watched my favourite harness driver, Bob McClure, win the Battle of the Belles. I danced my heart out at Riverfest Elora.

I walked barefoot home from the pub after the Carpenter’s birthday celebration, because I could. I spent time with friends goofing off. I took twilight drives down some of the back roads that connect us across Wellington County.

I love where I live.

But a change of scenery will do my family good. We’ve earned it. So just pause summer a little longer. Let me catch up.

Then we can all say the “F” word together (fall – I mean fall.).



Kelly Waterhouse